


Vices

by kitestrings



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-06 22:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8772628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitestrings/pseuds/kitestrings
Summary: No one made it far in the Atlas military without the help of a few vices, and Winter Schnee was no exception. She sometimes drank to forget the things she had seen and done, and she smoked the occasional cigarette at her lowest points, but her true vice was much more insidious.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Freffers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freffers/gifts).



> I'm still not sure exactly how this happened, but it happened, and I have plenty more scenarios I'd like to write for this pair, so stay tuned I guess?

                No one made it far in the Atlas military without the help of a few vices, and Winter Schnee was no exception. She had seen it happen hundreds of times with the new recruits—their faces were always fresh and bright, filled with the confidence and determination of graduation from the academy. They entered the military with the intention of helping humanity and protecting their kingdom, but it was never that simple. As the months and years passed, their faces fell and broke as they were forced to do things that could not be explained by the simple black and white morality of their youth. It was there, trapped in the grey, that they found their vices. Winter sometimes drank to forget the things she had seen and done, and she smoked the occasional cigarette at her lowest points, but her true vice was much more insidious.

                Winter Schnee never tolerated weakness, least of all in herself. But there were no excuses, no other way she could explain how she ended up pinned up against a wall by Raven Branwen. She had, after all, gone into the situation completely prepared. Ironwood himself had delivered Raven’s file to Winter, explaining, “She had ties to powerful people in Vale before she defected, and we suspect she’s working with the White Fang now. She’s very experienced in dealing with spies, so any intel at all you can gather will be appreciated. We’re not expecting much. Even from someone as skilled as you,” he added, sensing her distaste at the implication she couldn’t handle the target, but that was absolutely true. “Don’t underestimate her, Winter. She’s dangerous.” Ironwood would never really understand exactly how right he was.

                From the moment Winter saw Raven for the first time, things started to go wrong. Her orders were clear and simple, just the way she liked them. Raven was expected to arrive at a hotel in Vale sometime that evening, and Winter had positioned herself at the bar in order to maintain a clear line of sight to the check-in desk. She was to report on Raven’s room number, the alias that she used, and any other observations that could be made from a few seconds’ glance. The Atlas military preferred to rely on automated machines as much as possible these days, but some things could only be achieved by a flesh and blood Huntress. Within an instant, Winter would know if Raven was armed, if she was injured, and she could guess how long she had been travelling and if she had been alone. She ordered herself a drink at the bar, because she was confident this would be a simple reconnaissance mission. That confidence was the first in a string of many mistakes that night.

                When Raven entered, Winter knew it was her instantly, before she even got a good look at her. She seemed to bring a cold breeze through the door with her, even though it was the middle of summer and the heat was oppressive. Her black hair fell to her waist, soft but tangled from time spent in the wilderness. Her clothes were tattered as well, revealing enough skin to make Winter shift uncomfortably in her seat. But her appearance clashed with the way she carried herself—she showed no signs of fatigue, let alone the kind of injury that it would suggest. That didn’t surprise Winter, though. Women like Raven Branwen never showed a hint of vulnerability. She spoke to the check-in clerk in a voice much more delicate and melodic than she expected from a woman so rough and battle worn. Winter was so busy thinking about her voice that it was a moment before she realized she hadn’t heard a word Raven had said. It wasn’t like her to daydream, so she immediately slipped into a moment of panic. She was abruptly thrust back to reality, just in time to see Raven’s red eyes lock with her own. When she should have been terrified, she was entranced. The photo in the file had not done justice to Raven’s unnerving beauty. Locked in her gaze, one of Atlas’ most skilled Huntresses felt unarmed—even vulnerable—and worst of all, she _liked_ it. Then, in an instant, it was over. Raven broke their eye contact, and suddenly Winter could breathe again.

                While her blood rushed through her veins at an impossible speed, she realized a few things. If Raven had taken an interest in her, she had the opportunity to make up for lost intel, and so much more. She hadn’t even been authorized to make contact with Raven, but that was the difference between Winter and her robotic, automated counterparts. A real Huntress knew that there were some opportunities too good to pass up.

                But instead of approaching her, Raven disappeared up the stairs, presumably to find her room. Winter was left sitting in the hotel bar, feeling as though something significant had happened, when it really hadn’t. To anyone else, all that had really happened was that she had failed her mission. Well, not “failed,” really, the Atlas military didn’t like to use that terminology. Her evaluator for this mission (she groaned audibly upon realizing it would be Ironwood) would find her performance “unsatisfactory” at best.

                Equally unsatisfied, Winter ordered another drink and resigned to sulk at the hotel bar. It was a welcome break. She was heavily disguised, with her most distinctive Schnee features covered by colored contacts and temporary hair dye. Between her fiery red hair, green eyes and street clothes, no one would have guessed that the woman at the bar was Special Ops Agent Winter Schnee.

                As she nursed her second drink, she considered how to write her report so that she didn’t sound like a complete idiot. “I just zoned out, sir,” she imagined herself saying, “You know me, sometimes I just stare out into space when I see a pretty girl.” Already overwhelmed with shame, she buried her face in her hands.

                “Well, did you see something you like?”

                Raven’s voice came from beside her, and for just an instant Winter wondered if she had accidentally spoken the words aloud. Her tone was just as melodic as before, but now there was a hint of something else just beneath the surface. Was she…taunting her? No—she realized suddenly—Raven Branwen was _flirting_ with her.               

                The interruption had startled her, but a Huntress like Winter was not easily shaken. She betrayed no hint of the panic she felt inside. Instead she twirled a lock of red hair around her index finger, something she never would have done under normal circumstances. “Perhaps,” she replied, with a smirk and a little extra sweetness in her voice.

                Raven didn’t miss a beat in their playful exchange. “Why don’t I buy you a drink while you think about it, Miss…?”

                “Rory,” she replied without hesitation.

                She raised her eyebrows in response, clearly expecting a surname.

                “Just Rory for now,” Winter said slyly, with a wink, “Maybe later I’ll tell you my last name.” Though she didn’t show it on her face, she had surprised even herself. She could trade insults or friendly banter with the best of them, but she was a notoriously awful flirt. The fact that she had made it this far in this endeavor was, frankly, a miracle.

                She smirked back, leaning in so close that Winter was sure Raven could hear her heart pounding. “I like the way you think, Rory. I’m Raven.”

                Winter was surprised to hear her use her real name. Sure, it was a relatively common name in Remnant, but paired with her distinctive appearance, she was quite recognizable. This was probably especially true in Vale, where she had once attended Beacon Academy. She realized quite suddenly that it didn’t matter whether Raven Branwen was identified. Besides the fact that she was always on the move, anyone that recognized her was certainly too terrified to cross her path, except Winter.

                “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she whispered back, as Raven’s nose brushed against her own again. The red eyes across from her blinked very slowly. “How about that drink?”

                The delay gave Winter time to flesh out her alias, which was not exactly stellar. Truthfully, she couldn’t even remember the last name on her fake identification card. Armed with at least half a dozen facts about someone else’s life, she began the conversation once more when Raven handed her the drink.

                “So, where are you from?” She cringed internally (and maybe a little externally too) as the words left her mouth. The cracks in her flirting ability were starting to show.

                “You really don’t want to know that,” she replied, rolling her eyes but still smirking. Whether she realized it or not, Raven had a point, Winter already knew everything about her past. Her goal tonight was to find out about her present, and her future.

                “No, you’re right, I don’t,” she said, scooting closer to her. A moment later, she decided to double down on that decision. She placed her hand on Raven’s thigh, and felt goosebumps appear on her skin in response. Leaning back in to brush their noses together, she whispered, “I want to know what you like.” Winter was losing faith in her ability to garner information through flirting, so she was going to have to push things further, faster. For the sake of the intel, of course. Raven held Winter’s chin gently in her hand, running her thumb across her bottom lip.

                “I like good girls, who do what they’re told,” she said, her voice sultry and low. Winter shuddered involuntarily. She tried to convince herself that she wasn’t _that_ attracted to Raven, that she was just…but nothing came, no excuse. Her mind was blank, like white hot fire, burning uncontrollably with no sign of stopping.

                “Why don’t you show me?” she replied, trying to match her tone and failing. But that was just as well. Everything so far indicated that Raven was attracted to her supposed vulnerability, which made sense for such a powerful woman. If she had to play damsel to get close to her, well, she would do whatever it took. For the sake of the mission. As Raven pondered her question, Winter experienced a brief moment of mental clarity. ‘She said she likes good girls, who do what they’re told,’ she imagined writing in her official report. For half a second she was outside herself, realizing the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Then Winter felt Raven’s lips pressed against hers, forceful and wanting, and her thoughts disappeared completely.  

                It felt as though every inch of her body was on fire, in the best way. It was a feeling not unlike panic, a battle in which Winter was hopelessly outmatched. Just when she realized she was not supposed to be enjoying this, it was over. Raven put her hand on Winter’s waist gently as she said, “You told me not to get ahead of myself, after all.” Then the hand travelled downward, to her hip. “Now, tell me about your weapon,” she said coolly.

                Winter barely reacted to what could have been a veiled threat from one of Remnant’s most dangerous criminals, because she was still reeling from her kiss. It probably helped her cover anyway, she thought as she took a big gulp of her drink. After a couple seconds, she returned to reality enough to remember her alias.

                “It’s just a Dust-powered sabre, nothing special. I haven’t updated it much since school,” she replied. About half of that was a lie, since she had chosen to bring her own weapon along for the mission and not one from the military’s armory. After all, she hadn’t planned on needing it, let alone having Raven Branwen examine it. Her red eyes gave one last glance down at Winter’s weapon, then returned to stare quite conspicuously at her lips.

                “So you’re a Huntress?” she asked, and Winter realized she had made a slight misstep. Any self-respecting Huntress would have heard of Raven. But this would be only a minor setback—even with the pleasant buzz of alcohol settling in her mind, she was quick on her feet.

                “I used to be,” she replied, taking another sip of her drink as she paused, “I got into researching aura technology for a few years, and a couple days ago someone contacted me about a teaching position at Beacon Academy.” Winter paused again, leaving Raven the opportunity to volunteer that she had attended Beacon years ago. When she didn’t, she continued, “Are you a Huntress?”

                Raven smiled, in the way that people smile when they know something you don’t. She reached to brush Winter’s cheek with her hand. Her skin was rough, but her touch was electrifying. “I am,” she said softly, “But I can’t imagine a sweet girl like you fighting monsters.” Not used to playing the vulnerability angle, she was peeved internally. The incredibly stubborn part of her wanted to drop the act altogether, draw her sword and prove to Raven right then and there that Winter Schnee was anything but sweet.

                She thought better of it, and opted for another strategy. “I’m not always sweet, you know,” she said with a wink. Deciding that this wasn’t quite sufficient, she leaned in and kissed her, taking her bottom lip between her teeth as she did so. Feeling the goosebumps rise on Raven’s skin once more, she got the confidence to push a little farther. Winter bit down just a little harder than she thought she should, and Raven shivered with pleasure. She moved her hand up to run her fingers through Winter’s hair, and she broke the kiss as she gasped in response. She had always hated having her hair down in public, but this made it absolutely worth it.

                “I see,” Raven said with a smirk as they pulled apart. She wiped the bottom of her lip with the back of her hand, and Winter experienced another moment of lucid shame. Winter Schnee—Atlas military special operative and heiress to her family’s fortune—did not make out with women in bars, she thought to herself as she glanced around the room. The bartender was watching them periodically out of the corner of his eye, but no one else seemed to be paying them any mind. Well, even if Winter didn’t normally do things like this, tonight, Rory did.

                “Have I waited long enough?” She asked, returning the sweetness to her voice. Raven liked good girls, after all.

                “Perhaps,” she replied slyly. She still had her hand in Winter’s hair, brushing her bangs off her face and tucking it behind her ear. “Are you willing to prove it to me?”

                _Oh gods above,_ Winter thought, truly giving in to her emotions for the first time that evening. She felt weak in the knees, totally overwhelmed by attraction in a completely foreign way. Winter was no stranger to sex and she was not prudish, but Raven made her feel as though she were proceeding into unknown territory. After years of casual relationships and relatively disappointing sex, Winter believed that crimes of passion were simply mistakes made by the weak-minded. As Raven led her up the stairs, she truly understood the phrase “the heat of the moment” for the first time.

                Still, she managed to take note of the room number as they passed through the door: 304. Regardless of whatever intel Winter managed to gather, her report would have to be a complete work of fiction, fabricated from start to finish. This one piece of information was not enough to justify what she had already done, and was definitely about to do with Raven Branwen. After all, she reasoned, if she escaped now, she would tip off Raven that she was being followed without gaining much in return. This was how Winter justified the idea of sleeping with a dangerous criminal and sworn enemy of her family.

                The lock clicked ominously as Raven shut the door behind them. Her grin was one of a hunter that had finally captured her prey, but Winter’s lust left no room for fear. She did a tactical scan of the room—to her right was the door to a small, clean bathroom, left ajar. Directly in front of her was a queen-sized bed, the headboard pushed up against the wall, completely untouched. To her left was a large, third-story window, about six feet long and three feet tall—a possible route for escape, but not ideal.

                Her tactical scan was interrupted by Raven. In one swift motion, she spun Winter around to face her and pulled her in, kissing her hard. It didn’t occur to her even once that she should be afraid. Now that they were away from the wandering eyes of the bar patrons, Raven’s hands wandered. Was she feeling her up or patting her down? It was almost certainly both, Winter realized.

                “You won’t need this anymore,” Raven whispered in her ear, unclipping her sabre from her belt. Just a bit of anxiety grew in her chest, but it vanished as Raven ran her thumb along her waistline, across the curve of her belt. In spite of herself, Winter gasped. The slightest touch rendered her as vulnerable as she had been pretending to be. She felt Raven smile through the kiss, clearly pleased with that reaction. Her hand rested, grabbing Winter’s hip forcefully, letting her thumb rest in the curve of the bone. “I didn’t expect you to be so _sensitive_ ,” she added.

                _Neither did I,_ Winter thought to herself. She was putty in Raven’s hands, and she loved it. No longer rendered completely motionless, she wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her tightly. In response, Raven took a few steps forward until Winter’s back was pressed against the wall beside the bed. She suppressed another gasp, but it came out a moment later when Raven’s lips left her hers and made their way across her cheek and down her neck. Some of the kisses were gentle, surprisingly tender to be given by a women who exuded such power. What Winter much preferred with the other kisses—forceful and demanding, with just a hint of teeth grazing her skin. But they weren’t satisfying, on the contrary, all she felt was a fiery desperation for _more._

                No longer content to simply receive, she reached out and tugged the hem of Raven’s shirt upwards until she lifted her arms for Winter to remove it, both of them grinning mischievously all the while. Different parts of her brain fought to notice different things all at once. She _was_ injured, Agent Schnee realized. She hadn’t acted like it at all so far this evening, but it looked significant nonetheless. Her left arm had been wounded, the bicep sliced diagonally by some kind of large blade. It was recent, but no longer open. It appeared as though she had stitched it closed herself, somewhat haphazardly. But that thought only passed through her mind vaguely and briefly. Any ounce of logic left in her body had been drowned out by the sight of the shirtless woman before her.

                Raven’s chest was as rough and marred as her hands, but it did nothing to take away from her ethereal beauty. Her loose, kimono-esque top had hidden the well-defined curves of a fit, mature woman. A rip in her shirt had hinted at the presence of her breasts, but it could not have prepared Winter for seeing them in their full glory. For a moment, she was content just to take in the sight of them perfectly round and full. But soon, the black lace bra began to drive her crazy. Raven’s red eyes were half-closed, and she was smirking. She knew exactly what she was doing.

                Raven returned to plant furious kisses down Winter’s neck, the two of them moving together in a rhythm as Winter ran her hands across her bare chest. Raven prepared to return the favor, grasping both sides of her waist tightly and beginning to lift the hem of her blouse. But she paused, pulling away and peering at Winter curiously. A cold wave of dread rushed through her body as she realized what Raven had discovered. Instead of lifting her shirt above her head, she decided to unbutton it from the neck down, revealing the knife strapped to her side.

                To her relief, Raven smiled as she discarded it. “I suppose you never know who you might meet out here in the wilderness,” she said coyly, “Isn’t that right, Rory?”

                Winter had almost forgotten she was undercover. “Right,” she breathed. Even with a different identity, her Schnee tendencies made their way into her clothing choices. Raven had unbuttoned her crisp white blouse to reveal a low, plunging white lace bra. Underneath, she could not hide who she truly was. Raven grabbed her by the placket of her shirt and shoved her back against the wall as she kissed her. Bare skin collided with bare skin, finally. Raven slipped one of her legs in between Winter’s, and another gasp of pleasure escaped from between her lips. The sudden pressure made her crave more of Raven between her legs.

                 The sensation ignited something within her. She closed her eyes, letting all the feelings wash over her as she fiddled with the clasp of Raven’s bra. It wasn’t enough to have her chest pressed against hers, Winter wanted _all_ of her. As she removed it, Raven let out a small sigh. “Looks like I have some catching up to do,” she said softly, pushing Winter’s blouse off her shoulder and onto the floor. She slipped a single white bra strap off her shoulder, then paused. Grinning slyly, she added, “You don’t like to be kept waiting, do you?”

                Winter couldn’t form words to answer even if she wanted to. Now she had full access to Raven’s breasts, but it drove her crazier than ever. Never before in her life had she been so turned on by sheer anticipation. She held one of Raven’s breasts in her right hand, running her thumb back and forth across her nipple. Her other hand clutched her thigh, her fingers inching up her skirt. Under her hands, Winter could feel that she had goosebumps all over, and she was breathing heavily. Finally, Raven was starting to lose herself as well.

                Just when Winter felt she was gaining some control over the situation, Raven put her back in her place. She felt fingers around her neck, and panic cut through lust for half a second. But instead of moving in for the kill, Raven simply pushed her head back against the wall before she descended. Winter had had someone else’s hand around her neck plenty of times before, but never in a situation quite like this. She found she enjoyed it, especially now that Raven had turned her attention to her breasts. Winter smiled, still breathing heavily. They were a favorite feature of hers, and an assortment of men and women had been completely overwhelmed by the sight of them. It seemed Raven was no different. Still refusing to remove Winter’s bra, she simply nudged it aside with her nose, making room for her lips to brush lightly against her skin.

                “Patience, dear,” she said, clearly feeling Winter starting to quiver underneath her. The tenderness with which she touched her lips was positively agonizing, but a few moments later it paid off. Raven moved all at once, squeezing a little too hard, letting her nails dig into the skin of Winter’s breast. At the same time, she pushed with her mouth as well, running her tongue over her nipple as her teeth pressed into the skin around it. She knew from experience that it would bruise, but it was more than worth it. This felt far too good, as though she were indulging in a luxury she could not afford.

                Winter could no longer reach her thigh, so she ran her fingers through Raven’s long dark hair as she occupied her hands and mouth with her breasts. Pausing only for a moment, she looked up and said, “You are far too gentle with me, Rory.” Winter blinked for a moment, then obliged, taking a fistful of hair and tugging. For the first time in their encounter, it was Raven’s turn to gasp. The sound was intoxicating—Winter wanted to make her gasp, moan, scream, anything she could manage. “That’s more like it,” Raven said, her voice breathy as she returned to kiss her on the neck.

                Winter saw her opportunity and took it. She moved her hand back up Raven’s skirt, her fingertips brushing lightly until she felt the unmistakable texture of lace. Finally able to put words together, she said, “I’m not going to let you have all the fun.”

                “We’ll see about that,” she replied, without missing a beat. Sure enough, she was frozen as Raven unclasped her belt one-handed, gently massaging her left breast with the other, still moving around her bra. She had accidentally stumbled upon one of Winter’s closely held (if somewhat vanilla) kinks—she sometimes enjoyed leaving her clothes on during sex. It heighted the feeling she was doing something she wasn’t supposed to, and it surprised exactly no one that a Schnee would get off on the idea of misbehaving. After all, she had always loved a certain type of friction.

                Finally, Raven slipped her hand down the front of Winter’s pants, then toyed with the edge of her white panties. She had read her like an open book, but god, it felt so good. Just when she was about to beg her to, she moved further down in, but Raven wasn’t ready to satisfy her just yet. She pressed her body against Winter’s, coming into contact with as much of her as possible as she whispered in her ear, “I see you’ve been waiting for me.”

                Winter felt color rise in her face as Raven gently kissed her neck. She had been trying to convince herself that she was cool, calm and collected for the sake of the mission, but her body had betrayed her. She had found herself begin to get wet when Raven first kissed her downstairs in the bar, which was embarrassing enough on its own. Since then, Raven had driven her wild with anticipation, and now she had undeniable evidence of exactly how aroused Winter was.

                “Aah,” the sound escaped from her mouth as Raven’s fingers moved around, exploring. Winter was silently grateful that she had recently shaven—her natural white hair would have been a dead giveaway. Still, Raven seemed to sense how much she enjoyed having hands underneath her clothing. She was rubbing her quite gently now, teasing her, building up within her a desperate need to orgasm.

                Something like a low growl came from Raven’s throat. She, too, was hungry for more. “You’ve been a very good girl,” she said, with a sweet tone that did not match the sound she had just made. “I’ve had a long day, honey,” she said with a sigh, throwing half a glance at her wounded arm. “I was hoping you could— _relax—_ with me,” she said, leaning in. As she did so, Raven pushed her index and middle finger just barely inside Winter’s pussy, just enough to hint at how easily she could pleasure her.

                “Yes,” Winter breathed, both answering her and responding to the motion. She would have agreed to do anything for her in that moment. “What—what did you have in mind?”

                “I’ll show you,” she replied, whispering the words directly to Winter’s lips. “But first—“ Raven finished removing Winter’s pants in one swift motion, then her white panties as well, still wet from the agonizing buildup. Here, Raven seemed to get distracted from whatever her mission was. From her knees, she clutched Winter’s thighs tightly and slowly ran her tongue along her clit.

                “Oh god,” she moaned, closing her eyes to revel in the feeling. Raven might have meant it as a teasing gesture in the process of taking her pants off, but now she seemed inspired by Winter’s reaction. She gently slid her two fingers further inside of her, as she continued to deliver pressure with her tongue. Winter was feeling everything at once—she was enjoying Raven’s gentle, massaging motions, but she wanted _more,_ faster, _harder._ She felt herself go weak in the knees, and she was silently thankful she had a wall to lean against. When she feared she might sink to the floor anyway, Raven suddenly backed away and stood up.

                Cold dread rushed through Winter’s veins. She worried that something was wrong, that Raven had suspicions about her identity. But she was reassured by the fact that Raven was still smirking. “I you want more, you’ll do as I say,” she said coolly, approaching her once more, the skin of their breasts and hips brushing together in an electrifying sensation.

                Winter loved nothing more than taking orders. “Anything,” she whispered back, finally matching Raven’s tone.

                “First, well,” she began, “I suppose I could take these off myself, but I’d rather not have to.”

                She was happy to oblige. She unzipped Raven’s skirt, which was wholly necessary in order to pull it past of her hips. For a moment Winter reveled in the sight of the lace panties she had felt before, very carefully selected to match her bra. She tried to tease her as Raven had, running her thumbs along the curve of her hip bones, but she found she didn’t have much willpower left. She closed her eyes and found Raven’s lips with her own, pulling her close as she tugged her panties off.

                Raven grasped Winter at the waist, letting her hands work her way down her hips, then to her thighs, which is exactly where she wanted them. Then she stepped backwards, pulling Winter with her, and suddenly she began to wonder exactly what “relaxing” might entail. Fear finally began to take hold as Raven broke away and led her by the hand to the bathroom, grinning mischievously all the while.

                She flipped on the lights to reveal a bathroom that was larger than it had appeared from the doorway. The toilet and sink were up against the wall furthest from them, a large glass-paneled shower to their left and a huge bathtub to their right. Everything was pristine and perfectly white. This time, Winter’s fear did not subside. Painfully aware of the feeling of her bare feet on the cold tile, she hoped Raven would lead her to the large bathtub, but she did not. Instead she reached in and turned on the shower, as hot as it would go.

                “One more thing,” Raven said, finally unclasping Winter’s bra and letting it fall to the floor. She opened her mouth to continue speaking but stopped, distracted by Winter’s breasts completely uncovered. Raven’s lips brushed over the tip of her nose gently as she traced the underside of Winter’s breasts with her fingertips. She touched her delicately at first, caressing her, but as her hand wandered downwards she began to push and squeeze to the rhythm of their collective breathing. All the while, the sound of the shower and the increasing heat reminded Winter that everything was about to go horribly wrong. But as Raven slipped deftly inside of her, fingers hitting the perfect spot at the perfect time, she felt powerless to stop.

                In the shower, Winter’s hair dye would wash out in a matter of seconds, revealing her true identity. Even with her semblance, being without her weapon in such a confined space with Raven would be a death sentence. Still, their extensive foreplay and Raven’s expert hands pushed her closer and closer to orgasm. Could Winter delay her long enough to be satisfied before making her escape? She could barely think straight now, let alone be sensible. There was only one thing on her mind.

                “Oh god, please,” she moaned, ignoring how desperate she sounded. She _was_ desperate now, there was no angle left to play, only pure lust. Raven responded by pushing her up against the wall of the shower, as she seemed to love to do. Winter felt her body tense and release for half a second as her skin collided with the hot glass. She gasped. She was on the edge, she was so close, if she could make this last a few moments longer…

                “Ready to relax?” Raven whispered directly in her ear. With her foot she pushed the shower door open, clearly not wanting to take her hands off (or out of) Winter for even a moment. But she resisted as Raven moved to guide her into the shower.

                “No, wait, I—“ she stuttered. She had no plan, she was actively fighting her body—every fiber of her being wanted nothing more than for Raven to stay.

                “Shh,” she replied. Raven lifted her palm to put pressure on Winter’s clit in the exact way that would push her to the point of no return.

                “Oh,” the smallest noise escaped, so involuntary Winter wasn’t totally sure it came from her own mouth. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment of glorious tension before the inevitably exhilarating release.

                “Come, we both know what will happen in there, Winter,” Raven’s voice interrupted her, but it was too late.

                “Oh!” The uncontrollable noise of her orgasm was mixed with her cry of surprise. But the waves of pleasure washed over her all the same, her gently convulsing body offering no resistance as Raven finally pushed her into the shower and up against the wall. “Oh,” another small sound almost escaped, but this time, Raven’s forearm was over her throat.

                The combination of the rush of orgasm and the sudden lack of oxygen left Winter unable to even comprehend how stupid she had been, how _weak._ She needed a clear mind and concentration to use her semblance, and right now she had neither. Winter Schnee, like the all the people she had looked down upon—had made a mistake in the heat of the moment, and she was about to pay for it with her life.

                “Ironwood thinks me a fool,” Raven hissed, her red eyes narrowed. Then she tilted her head to the side slightly, and her smirk returned. “And he think of you as little more than bait.”

                Winter’s mind could almost function enough to be angry. Had Ironwood set her up, knowing Raven wouldn’t be able to resist the opportunity to take down a Schnee? She searched Raven’s face for the answer, unable to speak.

                Her hair was nearly completely white now. As a result the two of them were covered in the temporary dye, making the scene appear quite gory. Bright red covered their naked body and the glass of the shower around them. But in a matter of moments, the hot water would wash them clean.

                Winter grasped at the arm across her throat. Raven let go, allowing her to speak but making it clear she wasn’t going to escape. She coughed, feeling her aura repair the damage almost instantly. “Are you going to kill me?” She sputtered, spitting out red water as she did so. She was welling up the power of her semblance within her. Even now, she wasn’t going down without a fight.

                Raven ran her fingers through Winter’s wet hair, now perfectly Schnee white. She pulled her head back as she did so, exposing her throat. “No,” she said softly, coyly, running her thumb down both of Winter’s lips. “That’s exactly what Ironwood wants. You’d make a wonderful, high-profile martyr for his cause.”

                “Then why?” she asked, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heart pounding. “Why even…why lure me here if you—if you’re not going to—“

                Raven held Winter’s chin in her hands, and their noses brushed alongside one another for a long moment before their lips met once more. Hot water ran down both their faces as they kissed fuller, harder than they had before. This was answer enough, but still Raven said, “I liked it, didn’t you?”

                Winter blinked, nodding. She was still recovering as Raven stepped backwards out of the shower. “Wait, I—“ she followed her as she walked to the other room, preparing to leave.

                “You can tell Ironwood I knocked you out for this part,” she said as she quickly dressed, “If you tell him anything at all, I suppose.”

                “But you—I—“ Winter tried to speak, her face reddening.

                Raven chuckled, approaching the window and opening it. She stared at the night sky thoughtfully for a moment, then turned and said, “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll have the opportunity to return the favor.” She winked, and Winter could only gape as Raven promptly transformed into the form of her namesake and flew away.

\---

                Winter rolled over in bed, sighing. In the week following, the memories of her encounter with Raven had found her often, forcing her to experience the full range of shame and arousal all over again. She certainly thought about it when turning her woefully inaccurate report (for which she received an “Unsatisfactory” rating, as she had anticipated). However, she also let the memories make her way into mind in times like these—in the safety of her own home, as she was trying to fall asleep.

                With no one to tell about the experience, she would have begun to wonder if it was actually real, if not for the evidence that Raven had been kind enough to leave behind. In the zombie-like aftermath of their meeting, Winter had found her black lace panties on the hotel room floor. Now, they were deep in the top drawer of her dresser, buried but not forgotten.

                “A little cliché,” she mumbled to herself, rolling back over to her other side again. She blushed as she stared at her dresser in the darkness. It was as if Raven had known that she would feel like this, desperately grasping at the memory of reaching up her skirt. She could easily recall the feeling now, and she set aside shame and fear for the sake of fantasy.

                Winter was starting to doze off when a noise pierced the silence of the night. She shot up in bed, instinctively reaching for her weapon. “Bianca?” She called. Her cat was the likely perpetrator, with a known history of knocking her desk lamp over in the middle of the night. But she was nowhere in sight. As she stood up, she heard the noise again, and this time was able to identify it as a loud tap on her bedroom window. There, perched on the edge of her flowerbed, was a large black bird.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you to everyone who enjoyed the first installment of this, I'm back with more "1/3 Miscellaneous Plot, 2/3 Self-Indulgent Porn"! I hope you all enjoy it, I'm constantly torn between "this is pretty good shit" and "this should never see the light of day", but if you liked the first chapter I think this one is even better!

                “Um, Agent Schnee?”

                Winter was jolted back to reality, her chin nearly slipping from where it had been resting thoughtfully against her knuckles. It wasn’t like her to be found daydreaming in a meeting, but it wasn’t like her to be doing a lot of the things she had been doing lately.

                “Y-yes, General Ironwood, sir?” She stuttered. The rest of the department heads looked on, a few of them looking smug at the idea of Winter Schnee being caught off guard. She felt color rise in her face. As always, she dared to swim in a room full of sharks, and now they smelled blood.

                Ironwood, seated at the head of the long table, gave the smallest sigh and blinked slowly. He rested his elbows on the table, clasped his hands in front of him and said, “Your agenda for the week, if you please?” His tone implied that this might not have been the first time he had asked her this question.

                “Right,” she replied, fishing her notes out from the large folder of papers in front of her. As a boss, Ironwood liked to have his hands in everything, so at the beginning of each week he held a meeting with all the department heads to discuss (and often argue about) what they planned to do. Winter could excuse Ironwood’s harmless micromanagement, but involving the other department heads made her life hell. Between her lineage and her relative youth, none of them seemed to think she belonged at that table. After being caught in a shameful fantasy, she felt she had proven them a little bit right.

                “Well, as with last week,” Winter began, trying to speak to the room at large without making eye contact with anyone, “My agents have reported a significant increase in sightings of White Fang operatives…but not activity.” She had intended to continue, but paused as she felt her scroll buzz in her pocket, and one of the sharks was ready to strike.

                “General Ironwood, if I may,” the man seated across from her asked, peering at her out of the corner of his eye.

                Ironwood glanced between him and Winter, then nodded and said, “Lieutenant General Hummel, proceed.”

                “With all due respect, Miss Schnee,” he began, and she felt her eye twitch involuntarily.

                “ _Agent_ Schnee,” she corrected him, narrowing her eyes almost imperceptibly. This was not an uncommon occurrence, but it infuriated her all the same.

                “Of course, _Agent_ Schnee,” Hummel started again, with a half smirk. Pretending to look down at her notes, Winter stole a glance at her scroll. A text message had appeared, reading, ‘ _What were you thinking about?’_ The field that normally displayed the sender was blank, but there was no doubt who it was from. Things like this failed to surprise her anymore. Over the last couple weeks, she had learned that Raven had eyes and ears everywhere. Unaware she was distracted again, he said, “If you’ll excuse my confusion—“

                “It seems as though I must,” Winter interjected coolly, and a few of the others chuckled quietly. Hummel ignored it and continued.

                “—but how is that possible? You don’t mean to tell me that the White Fang is on vacation here in Atlas?” He finally finished his thought, leaving the question to hang in the air. Though he was clearly being sarcastic as a means to criticize her, he wasn’t far from the truth. Raven had visited her in the night twice since their first meeting in Vale, and the White Fang wasn’t willing to let her travel to such a place alone. For a moment, she wondered what excuse Raven had fed her companions to explain their trips to Atlas. It probably wasn’t unlike what Winter had come up with for her own team. Then, her thoughts returned to Lieutenant General Hummel.

                She opened her mouth and shut it a few times, slowly editing her thoughts down to something acceptable. Finally, she settled on, “ _With all due respect_ , Lieutenant General, in the future I’d recommend waiting until I’ve finished giving my report before asking any obvious questions.” This too garnered a few chuckles, and even Ironwood cracked half a smile. It wasn’t like Winter to participate in conference room banter, but today she was a particular kind of frustrated.

                Without waiting for Hummel to respond, she continued, “While we’ve only been tracking them at this level of detail for a few weeks now, we have reason to believe they may be trying to establish a more formal base of operations in Atlas. Compared to the other kingdoms, they have a relatively weak foothold here. My team has compiled a list of possible locations for their potential stronghold, and this week will begin regular patrols of these areas.” This was the genuine conclusion her agents had come to. Winter, at least, found it quite plausible. Much more plausible than the truth.

                Hummel interrupted again, this time without asking for permission. “Have you considered your numbers may be inaccurate? I’m having trouble believing your explanation of events.”

                Winter gritted her teeth, taking a few seconds to cool off before responding. In that time, she felt her scroll buzz again. Raven had clearly become interested in the conversation taking place. Her jaw still clenched, she replied, “Lieutenant General, I’m not interested in doing anyone else’s job but my own. If you think the numbers are wrong, you’ll need to deal with Crime Statistics and Reporting.” She glanced over at Lieutenant General Koeman, head of the Intelligence division, who narrowed his eyes at Hummel. Winter took the moment of tension to glance at the message on her scroll: _‘The numbers are right, you know.’_ She finally had a chance to text back, ‘ _I know.’_

                As Hummel redirected his criticisms towards Koeman, Winter had a few moments to ponder the situation in which she now found herself. Years ago the last of her patriotism had subsided, leaving not much left but directionless ambition. That alone had gotten her as far as head of Special Ops, but secretly she still lacked the blind moralistic drive that Ironwood seemed to desire. For her, it was a job, and any job that kept her away from her father’s influence would suffice.

                Her recent habit had highlighted the utter pointlessness of all of this. Winter had learned a lot of things from Raven Branwen (most of which were shamefully inappropriate for a conference room), but in particular, she had come to realize that the White Fang and Atlas Military were far more intertwined than either of them realized. What they both saw as a war (in which they would soon have the upper hand) was really more of a gentle ebb and flow of power, a constant balancing act in which they could never hope to truly destroy one another. While it made Winter pessimistic about the abstract concepts of justice and morality, it certainly made her feel better about letting a certain black bird into her bedroom.

                Koeman had, in turn, taken to verbally shredding the head of the military police, blaming their complex, overly bureaucratic reporting system for the allegedly faulty numbers. Winter hadn’t intended to deflect the issue to this extent, but it was working out splendidly. She felt her scroll buzz again, and glanced around the room to see if the coast was clear to check it. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ironwood slip something from a flask into his coffee mug. Around here, they all needed some substance to abuse, Winter’s was just a tad bit more dangerous.

                ‘ _Need to blow off some steam?’_ The text read. Winter blinked, managing to suppress a reaction. ‘ _Yes,’_ she typed out, then deleted it. ‘ _Later?’_ was the next thing she wrote, but hesitated. Raven wasn’t the type to take a raincheck or rearrange her schedule. She backspaced, then sent a text that said, ‘ _I’m in a meeting.’_ She knew that Raven knew this, but it was the only thing she felt she could say. Pretending to listen to three or four department heads trading veiled insults, Winter shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She couldn’t help but imagine what Raven would be doing to her body if not for this stupid meeting.

                ‘ _I’ll take care of it,’_ Raven replied. Winter blinked again, feeling her back stiffen and her heart rate rise. There was no point in telling her to stop. When Raven Branwen put her mind to something, there was no question whether she’d follow through. For the next few moments, she was on the edge of her seat, only half-listening to the discussion of recent issues with military police conduct. How was Raven going to take care of it? She half expected an alarm to blare, or the black bird herself to come crashing through the window. Just when Winter thought Raven might have changed her mind for once, Ironwood’s personal assistant came striding in.

                The young man stole a glance at her as he passed. He had become quite taken with Winter since he started his job a year or so ago, and he was attractive in a clean, sharp sort of way. But she was sure, now more than ever, that he had no chance of keeping up with her. Still, she met his eyes for half a second and watched as his cheeks flushed in response. He hurried past and delivered a note to Ironwood at the other end of the table. ‘ _Focus,’_ a text appeared on her scroll, and Winter imagined Raven growling the word.

                “I’m sorry, I have to take care of something,” Ironwood announced, standing up suddenly, “That will be all for today.” Winter, who had been prepared for this, was quick to gather up her papers and follow suit. A few snide words still hung in the air as the other department heads stood up and left. She couldn’t be happier to get out of that room and see Raven. This was the most the two had ever done with regards to planning a rendezvous. The two times past, Raven had simply shown up at Winter’s bedroom window, assuming she would be up for it. To be fair, she always was.

                This time would be different, Winter realized in the elevator. Under the cover of night, the flurry of skin and sweat could have easily been a dream. The daylight would make reality undeniable. She was surprised to feel her scroll buzz again. ‘ _Where are you?’_ The text read. Winter chuckled to herself. Raven not only did not know where she was (which was unusual enough on its own), but she also seemed quite eager to see her. ‘ _Heading to my office,’_ she replied, as she stepped out onto the 23rd floor, where Special Ops was located. Some of her agents glanced up at her as she passed, but saw that she was engrossed in her scroll and did not interrupt.

                In true Huntress fashion, she was already forming a plan in her mind. It had been months since she worked from home, even though that was an option for someone of her rank. She just needed to swing by her office, grab some things and—

                Winter stopped dead in her tracks as she pushed open the door. Leaning against the wall next to the window was Raven, looking smug. She quickly shut and locked the door behind her, nearly dropping every paper she was holding in the process. “What are you doing here?” She asked with just a hint of irritation as she tossed the folder onto the desk.

                Raven seemed unfazed by Winter’s mood. She strode over to her, lifted her chin very slightly and ran her thumb across her bottom lip, as she had that first night in the hotel. Her skin was cold to the touch, but that wasn’t the only reason Winter shivered. “I thought I made that quite clear,” Raven said with half a smirk.

                “You knew what I meant,” she replied, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Still, her tone conflicted with the fact that she was wrapping her arms around Raven’s waist, pulling her closer. She was smirking fully now,                 appreciating this external display of Winter’s cognitive dissonance. “It’s like…walking into the lions’ den,” she added. She cringed at the weak metaphor—Raven had a certain effect on her mind, as always.

                Raven entertained the thought anyway, tilting her head back and forth thoughtfully. “Obviously I thought it was worth it,” she said, her lips almost making contact with Winter’s, so close she swore she could feel it. “After all,” she continued, pulling back slightly, “It helps when the lions aren’t too bright themselves.”

                After the meeting, Winter could hardly argue. Not that she wanted to, anyway. She was busy enjoying the sensation of Raven pressed against her, of wandering hands threatening to unpin her hair. For a while she couldn’t focus on anything but the fact that this was _real,_ this was no mid-meeting daydream. As their lips met, she closed her eyes, completely fixed on the feeling of Raven’s tongue in her mouth. Her hands were searching for a way into Winter’s uniform, to no avail. This really was different than last time, she thought to herself. After a moment, her endorphin-addled brain pieced together a conclusion—for the first time, Raven seemed to want her quite desperately.

                At the realization, Winter’s mouth turned to a grin through the kiss, and she pulled away. For an instant Raven’s expression flashed something between confusion and anger—she was not prepared to be denied anything she wanted. “What are you doing here?” Winter asked again, but her tone couldn’t have been more different. When they met three weeks ago, she had been terrified of Raven, but now she was _teasing_ her.

                She didn’t seem to appreciate it. Her eye twitched slightly, and Winter imagined feathers that had been ruffled. “Winter, I—“ Raven began, exasperated.

                But Winter had spotted a weakness, and the Huntress in her could not resist exploiting it. “Raven,” she cut her off, the name sweet on her tongue. She grabbed her by the hips, gently stepping forward until the backs of Raven’s thighs collided with the edge of her desk. “You wanted something from me,” she said slightly, reaching up and pulling Raven’s face closer to hers.

                Her red eyes widened for just a moment, the exact reaction Winter was hoping for. Her hand was halfway up Raven’s skirt when she finally formed a whispered protest, “Th—nonsense! You know full well I—“ But Winter had moved to kiss the base of her neck, very gently taking some of skin between her teeth. That seemed to be enough to stop her from speaking, so she doubled down and bit a little harder, earning a gasp in the process.

                “I know your strategy now, dear,” she said, borrowing the term of endearment Raven had used during their first night spent together.

                “I—“ The sound came out choked, and it ignited a ravenous hunger in Winter.

                “Of course, you’re _so_ very generous,” she whispered into Raven’s ear, teeth grazing against her cheek like a promise, or perhaps a threat. “But that’s not what it’s about, is it?”

                Raven’s hands had been fiddling with the clasp of her jacket, but now they hung in the air, motionless. These small cues drove Winter wild.

                “No,” she continued. One of her hands was in Raven’s thick black hair, gently untangling it with her slim fingers. The other was between her legs, rubbing outside her panties just often enough to build anticipation without allowing her an ounce of pleasure. “It’s about _power,_ isn’t it? I know you like to fuck me,” she said, her voice finally as low and cool as she wanted it to be, “But I think you _love_ to be in control.”

                “I—oh—“ Raven tried to speak again, but as she did, Winter delivered another quick love bite to her neck. The first had already begun to bruise, and for a moment she reveled in the idea of Raven trying to explain such a thing to other prominent members of the White Fang. She pulled back, and her mischievous grin met a surprising look on Raven’s face.

                She had expressed the scrunched, twitchy features of someone who had been inconvenienced by a change in plans. Instead, Winter saw Raven as she never had before. Her eyes were wide, her mouth agape, and most exciting of all, her cheeks were a deep red. Quite pleased with what she had accomplished, Winter leaned in to kiss her on the lips, but paused and whispered, “You know, I’m the one in charge around here.”

                Raven let out a breath she had apparently been holding, but it came out unsteady and trembling. She finally seemed to compose herself, with no small amount of effort. She moved backwards to sit on Winter’s desk, crossing her legs and folding her arms. She chuckled and said, “Well then, Miss Schnee—“

                “ _Agent_ Schnee,” Winter corrected her.

                “— _Agent Schnee,_ what makes you think you can boss me around?” There were too many layers to her tone, too many implications woven together, and Winter had no interest in untangling them. Truthfully, she would have been unsure if Raven had posed this question when she first arrived, but it was far too late. Her face had told Winter everything.

                She stepped forward, wasting no time in grabbing a fistful of Raven’s hair. Winter already knew she liked this, but the small sigh that escaped from her mouth indicated that it turned her on even more than normal. “You came to my office, after all,” she whispered, her lips brushing Raven’s, “I make the rules in here.”

                Without giving her a chance to respond, Winter kissed her hard, pulling her hair at the same time. “Mmm,” Raven made a small noise against her lips, but it wasn’t enough. She shed her jacket, letting it fall to the floor as she climbed onto the desk to meet Raven where she sat. Winter was straddling her now, the front of her calves on either side of Raven’s thighs. It was very clear who was actually in charge now.

                Even Raven couldn’t deny it anymore. She uncrossed her legs, which was as much an open invitation as Winter thought she might get. She finally did what she had been thinking about doing the whole day—all through that stupid meeting—she pushed up Raven’s skirt to reveal her panties: red.

                “New, I like it,” she said coolly. She brushed her thumbs along the inside of Raven’s thighs, the part that had always, always given her goosebumps. She rested comfortably on Raven’s knees, dark blue eyes searching hungrily for their next target. All of Raven was now hers for the taking, and all it had required was a little show of force.

                But Raven was far from paralyzed. With the pesky jacket out of the way, she was busying herself with the buttons on Winter’s blouse, even more eager to feel her breasts than she normally was. She was nearly an expert on how to please her by now, so it was tempting to give in and let her. But Raven’s gasp had ignited within Winter a desperate need to see and hear her at her most vulnerable, at the absolute height of pleasure.

                “I know what you want,” Winter said, taking Raven’s hands in her own and moving them to her hair. She scoffed but obliged, letting down her bun and running her fingers through her silky white hair. She offered the slightest moan as a reward for Raven’s trouble—coming undone had never felt so good. With practiced hands she undid the buttons on her own blouse, and within a matter of seconds it was completely open, hinting at the rest of her bare torso. As they kissed furiously, Raven reached out to touch her chest, fingernails just barely grazing her breasts, her ribs, her stomach.

                Fortunately, Winter could remove Raven’s shirt with her eyes closed. It was wrapped in the style of a kimono, and one tug at the ties had the silky fabric falling off her shoulders. She could barely resist the urge to grin through the kiss again. Had she chosen that shirt intentionally? Winter certainly liked to think so. This conclusion was supported by the fact that Raven had paused to work on undoing the clasp of her uniform belt.

                “Not interested in making me wait today, I see,” Winter said, redirecting Raven’s hands once more. So far their encounters had been a notable exception in her sexual history, and today she was determined to prove that Winter Schnee was only as submissive as she decided to be. With Raven’s arms around her neck, she leaned forward, pushing her backwards to lay on her desk.

                “On the desk, really?” Raven asked, sounding less condescending than she probably intended. Her break in tone was the direct result of Winter’s tongue, making its way along the curve of her breast.

                “It’s my desk,” she said coyly, undoing the front clasp of Raven’s bra with one hand. Again, convenient. “I’ll do whatever I want here.” There was no argument from Raven this time, only heavy breathing. Winter seemed to be breaking through her defenses, and she was intent on continuing.

                Her hands could hardly decide where to go. They moved between Raven’s thighs, her waist, her breasts—between light touches and nails digging into skin that was slick with sweat. Winter’s mouth, on the other hand, was fully occupied with Raven’s nipples. She had begun by gently flicking them with the very tip of her tongue, then progressed to apply pressure with entirety of it.

                Raven responded to the sensations almost entirely with her hands with her hands on Winter’s back. She pulled her closer, a very polite way of asking for more. Although Winter was interested in displaying power over her, she obliged. After all, her primary objective was to push Raven to orgasm, to the point of ultimate weakness, if for no other reason than to prove she could. She let one of her hands wander to Raven’s hair, resting her forearm on the desk as she leaned over her. Winter wanted to hear her moan, to hear her _beg,_ as loud as they could get away with in her office.

                If her knees hurt from straddling Raven on her desk, Winter was far too busy to notice. As Raven began to move her hand again, she was quick to grab it, this time pinning it down above her head. Big red eyes blinked up at her, and Winter reveled in the chance to show her _exactly_ what she was capable of. She leaned in and kissed her on the lips, full and slow—another concession in their battle, in their exchange of power. Still, it could not undo what she had already accomplished—Raven Branwen pinned down against her desk, squirming beneath her.

                The moment of respite was over as quickly as it had begun. Winter made her way back down to Raven’s breasts, leaving a trail of soft kisses in her wake. She took her nipple into her mouth, intending to tease her with some gentle sucking. But as her teeth grazed it accidentally, a brand new sound came from Raven, so uncharacteristic that Winter could hardly believe it. From anyone else, she would have described it as a _whine_. She pushed this discovery a little further, pressing her teeth harder and harder into her skin. She heard the high-pitched noise again, long and loud enough that she could pick out Raven’s voice somewhere in it. Winter smiled to herself. She really shouldn’t have been surprised—after all, she had never met a Huntress who didn’t enjoy a little bit of pain.

                This, of course, included Winter herself. Raven answered the aggression with her free hand, digging her nails into Winter’s back. She relented, letting go of Raven’s wrist in the hopes her hand would join the other. Without looking she could not tell if Raven had begun to draw blood or not, only that she didn’t want her to stop. Naturally, Winter thought to herself, it only made sense that those who were trained to love battle often confused pleasure and pain. She could feel Raven’s legs moving beneath her, desperately shifting in hopes of finding the release that only Winter could deliver. And she had no intention of doing it a single moment before she felt like it.

                Still, Winter moved her hand between Raven’s legs, tracing her thumb along the edge of her panties. Unsatisfied with the lack of control allowed by her current position, she moved backwards slightly. Winter stopped for a few seconds to appreciate the sight before her—Raven Branwen, pictured not too far from here on Special Ops’ wall of Remnant’s Most Wanted, was sprawled on her desk, nearly naked, trying to pretend she wasn’t panting.

                “What are you waiting for?” Raven asked, still trying to steady her breathing.

                Winter gave a small chuckle. Raven’s impatience was nothing short of invigorating. She had intended to rip off her panties and get to work, but now she was much more interested in pushing her desperation a little further. Winter stepped off the desk, very slowly slipping off her blouse and pants.

                “White, always white,” Raven said, followed by a breathy laugh, “Do you even own—oh—“ Like before, Winter was mitigating any attempts Raven made to regain control, snide comments included. She had quickly gone underneath her panties to slip two fingers inside of her, which had done the trick nicely. She climbed back onto the desk, kneeling on either side of Raven’s thigh.

                Winter was grinning mischievously, and Raven knew exactly why. Never before had she managed to render a woman this wet in such a short period of time. Her denials had been just as insincere as they seemed—her body could not contain how aroused she really was. Winter placed a hand on Raven’s thigh as she removed the other to examine it. When she was sure Raven was looking her in the eye, she licked her first three fingers in turn with just a hint of drama. Now _that_ was a promise. The taste set something ablaze within her, and Winter felt her own self-control waning. What overcame her now was something almost like bloodlust.

                She searched Raven’s features for a response, and found that she had narrowed her eyes. “Impatient, I see,” Winter growled. There was no way she could deny it, but Winter was feeling it now too—a small taste had been far from enough. She pulled Raven’s panties off with such force she heard a seam begin to break. But the thought evaporated instantly when she realized she could actually smell Raven’s pussy in the air now. She felt her senses cloud in the exact way that they did when she was moving in for the kill. There was nothing in the world—no circumstances, no context—except her target.

                Winter stopped just short. Her hands gripped Raven’s thighs, and she was so close that her nose was almost brushing up against her clit. She knew from experience that this moment just before contact was agonizing, which is exactly why she did what she did.

                “I want you to beg for it,” Winter said, her voice quiet and low.

                “Excuse me?” Raven asked, although she had definitely heard her. She had not submitted completely, and Winter had no intention of rewarding her until she did. She knew that she didn’t need to say a word in order to communicate this to her. She simply ran her thumbs along the inside of Raven’s thighs, demonstrating exactly how much she was willing to withhold. A moment later one small, feeble word came: “Please?”

                “What was that?” Winter asked, her lips touching Raven’s as they moved.

                Her pride seemed to have all but vanished. “Please,” she repeated, stronger this time. In exchanged Winter slipped two fingers inside her—slow, tender, barely moving them back and forth. She wanted just a little bit more.

                “You want me to fuck you?” She asked. She already knew the answer, it was made obvious by the gentle clenching and overwhelming wetness of Raven’s pussy.

                “Yes—god, Winter, please—“

                Hearing Raven moan her name was more than enough. She could have corrected her—after all, in this office she was Agent Schnee only—but she couldn’t stand to wait a moment longer. She picked up the pace of her fingers, searching for the most pleasurable speed. At the same time, she licked Raven’s clit slowly and softly, watching and listening for a reaction. This was unexplored territory, and like any good Huntress, Winter would proceed with caution.

                “Ah—ahh—ha, ha—“ A sigh of pleasure devolved into something like a nervous laugh, as if Raven herself was surprised to hear it. Emboldened by this reaction, Winter closed her lips over Raven’s clit, pushing a little harder with her tongue. She considered pulling away and asking her to beg once more, but she didn’t have to.

                “Oh god—yes, yes, please—“

                Winter barely stifled a noise of her own. The taste, the smell, the sensation of her hand covered in Raven’s pussy—it was almost too much to hear her beg, too. She did pull away though, for a different reason. In spite of how much fun she was having with her clit, she knew she had to fuck her harder. With her free hand, she lifted Raven’s right leg up to rest against her shoulder.

                “Ohh,” she moaned lower and fuller now, as Winter pushed deeper inside of her. But her mouth was still left craving more of her. Winter pulled her other leg up, lifting up Raven by her hips. Her knees bent over Winter’s shoulders as she sank to her elbows. She caressed Raven’s lips for only a moment before she dove in with the full force of her tongue.

                Raven sighed again, no hint of shame left now. Winter herself couldn’t deny the conspicuous wetness in her own panties now, but that would be addressed in due time. She felt Raven’s hand in her hair as her tongue continued to explore. Not too long ago, she would have protested in the interest of maintaining control, but now it felt far too good to stop her for the sake of their game. Her face had started to become slick with the mixture of her own saliva and Raven’s pussy, and it surprised her. After all, Winter Schnee was anything but sloppy. But for this—for Raven—she could make an exception.

                She used the heel of her hand to deliver broad pressure to Raven’s clit, not unlike she had done to Winter the night they first met. Based on the way she shivered and moaned now, she had originally guessed based on what she herself liked. Winter was still on the hunt for something, a certain reaction, and she wouldn’t rest until she heard exactly what she wanted to hear from Raven.

                Winter set her hips back down on the desk, making hard eye contact as she wiped her mouth, pondering her next move. Not wanting to leave her neglected for too long, she massaged Raven’s clit with her hand, fingertips just barely brushing the delicate folds and grooves of her lips. Winter leaned over her now, planting light kisses on her bare breasts.

                “Oh—Winter, _please,_ ” Raven begged, her voice nearly unrecognizable from her usual cool tone. “Please fuck me.”

                “Since you asked so nicely,” she replied. She paused to nibble the skin around her nipple, which resulted in a gasp. “I’d be happy to.” Winter slid two fingers inside of her, still plenty wet from before. Then, she thought better of it and added a third. Raven’s entire body reacted, clenching and releasing and crying out.

                “Shh,” Winter reached up and put a hand over Raven’s mouth. She wasn’t genuinely concerned about being overheard, but as she suspected, the reminder that Raven was in enemy territory turned her on even more. She was pushing up against Winter now, the two of them establishing a rhythm that would surely drive her to orgasm.

                “Oh god, don’t stop, I—“ Raven tried to speak, but as she did Winter figured out exactly what to do. She had released her mouth and returned her full attention to her pussy, licking her clit in big, gentle circles. All the while she pushed harder, faster, deeper with her fingers. Finally, she heard it—Raven’s whine, high pitched and vulnerable, overwhelmed with pleasure. What followed was a rush of breathy noises, begging her to continue, despite the fact that Winter had not even vaguely threatened to stop. It seemed as though beneath all the layers of cold power was a woman who got off on submission.

                With her free hand, she stroked Raven’s thigh, enjoying softness of her skin and the tiny beads of sweat that had begun to form. The moments of tension had begun to grow longer and more frequent. “Are you going to cum for me?” Winter asked slyly. She wasn’t really expecting a response, but she got one anyway.

                “Oh! I—“

                On impulse, Winter dug her nails into the tender skin of Raven’s thigh, and that seemed to finally send her over the edge.

                “Oh—yes—yes—“

                Winter had still expected some sort of powerful roar of an orgasm from Raven, but as she came the noises were as breathy and high-pitched as her whine had been. Her pussy clenched around Winter’s fingers, still moving and massaging in the hopes of extending her orgasm. It certainly appeared to, as her body convulsed longer than she seemed to expect. A few small twitches still came as she sat up on the desk. She ran her fingers through Winter’s hair, perhaps with the intention of repairing her broken pride.

                Raven gave another nervous laugh. “Impressive,” she said, halfway back to her normal tone. Winter did not reply but moved forward, kissing Raven on the mouth with wet lips, letting her taste just a bit of herself.

                “Just getting you warmed up,” she explained. On her hands and knees she crawled forward until Raven was forced to lie back down on the desk. “There, that’s exactly where I want you.” She slipped her own panties off, taking note of exactly how wet they had become.

                Raven noticed too. “Wow, you’re—“

                “I know,” Winter cut her off, blushing just a little, “What are you going to do about it?”

                Finally, it was Raven’s turn to over a coy smile. Her answer came in the form of action as she pulled Winter’s hips forward until her pussy was directly over her mouth. “Mmm,” the sound came muffled as Raven pressed her lips against Winter, her tongue exploring every inch it could reach. The sound barely registered in her mind, though. She was far too busy enjoying the sensations of Raven’s mouth and hands, praying it would never end.

                To her surprise, pleasing Raven had turned Winter on immensely. She was no stranger to bringing a woman to orgasm, but other encounters had left her feeling somewhat detached from the experience. Now, Raven moved Winter’s hips with her hands, pulling her up and down just slightly in a gentle rhythm, adding to the force behind her tongue. Winter felt her face redden, knowing she wouldn’t be able to make it last as long as she would like. Still, she reached down and grabbed some of her thick, black hair, and Raven let out a long sigh as best as she could in her current state. Winter used it to pull her face closer, though it was hardly necessary. The woman beneath her was positively ravenous, filled with what seemed to be genuine enthusiasm. Winter closed her eyes for a moment, appreciating the thought that the Atlas military’s most thorough file on Raven Branwen was located in the desk on which she now lay. She imagined adding another note to it: “Raven is always eager to please.”

                Almost as a response, Raven slipped her tongue out of Winter’s pussy, replacing it with two fingers. “Aaahh,” she sighed, almost involuntarily. As a rule Winter normally preferred one night stands, being a woman of pursuit and conquest. As Raven massaged exactly the right spot with exactly the right rhythm, her new bad habit seemed to have some advantages. She tried to control her feelings, her body’s reactions to the sensations, but pleasure pushed past it and overcame her. As she moaned again, just a little louder than she should have, Raven’s grip on her tightened.

                Raven picked up the pace just a little, much to Winter’s delight. She looked down, saw her mouth moving towards her clit, and knew she was helpless. She brought her free hand up to touch her own face, as if that would help her control it, but it was far too late. Raven sensed this.

                “Are you going to cum for me?” She teased, borrowing Winter’s line from earlier, but with a little something extra, “…Agent Schnee?” And that finally pushed her over the edge.

                “Oh! Ohh..”

                The sudden addition of Raven’s tongue on her clit pushed her orgasm to a new, different place she had not experienced before. Her hips bucked involuntarily as waves of pleasure washed over her, but Raven held her as steady as she could while she continued to fuck her. Winter forced her eyes open, finding that the mischievous look on Raven’s face only made her cum harder. Was it _because_ what they were doing was so horribly, indisputably wrong that it felt so good? Or in spite of it? Winter was in no state of mind to figure it out, as intense relief flooded every inch of her body.

                Feeling drained suddenly, Winter scooted backwards in order to collapse on top of Raven. It was a position that was surprisingly unfamiliar to them. In all of their previous meetings, Raven had flown off into the night shortly afterwards. But today was as different as it could have been. Winter leaned off to one side, stroking Raven’s hair with the hand that had been tugging at it only moments earlier. She planted a kiss on her cheek, too lost in the haze of endorphins to be concerned about the implications.

                She knew exactly what would happen next. Raven would fly away, like she always did, while Winter collected her clothes from the floor, still reeling. She would leave her office in a hurry, and as she drove home she would wonder if it actually happened. She would have the proof until she arrived, where she would wash away all remaining evidence in the shower—the smell, the sensation of someone else’s sweat and saliva on her skin. Winter pushed away all thoughts of the future. Until then, she and Raven were having a different sort of moment.

                Raven wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. She answered Winter’s kiss with one on her lips, and they met with a softness she was wholly unprepared for.

                “I find your bed far more comfortable,” Raven mused, with a little humor in her voice.

                Winter laughed softly, as they kissed again. It seemed as though there was some give and take in their relationship after all. They were strangely close to something that resembled balance, even if it came from a power struggle.


End file.
